Third Time's The Charm
by waterbaby134
Summary: Three men have proposed to Lisbon over the years. Two engagements fail. One doesn't.


**Hey guys. It's been almost a full year since I last wrote for FF. I wrote this little fic as a birthday gift to a good friend and she encouraged me to share it. So that's what I'm doing now.**

 **I don't own anything.**

 **I hope you enjoy.**

* * *

When Greg asked her, she'd had to think it over for a few moments.

The whole thing had practically come straight out of the 'How To Propose To Your High School Sweetheart' textbook. They'd been dating for an appropriate length of time; he'd taken her to an appropriately fancy restaurant, and arranged for the modest diamond ring he'd purchased to be slipped into the champagne he'd ordered.

She'd suspected it was coming, to be completely frank. They'd been together just under three years, in a stable, functional relationship. They'd been living together for a year. They'd vacationed together, spent Christmases with alternating families and had a date night once a month. An engagement was the next logical step. Greg had always been the practical type, and he'd always been clear about what he'd wanted from life. Career, house, wife, dog, kids. In that order.

Still, she'd still had to catch her breath when she spotted that tell-tale gleam at the bottom of her glass. Expected or not, it wasn't every day a man told you that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you, that he would forsake all others because he believed there was no woman he could love more in all the world. It was a big commitment, and a big compliment.

Thank God he wasn't the type to do this in a way that would have attracted the attention of the entire restaurant. She didn't think she'd have been able to think straight with a hundred or so curious eyes waiting expectantly for her answer.

Perhaps she should have listened to that little niggling voice that asked her whether she was really ready to play dutiful wife and mother. To sacrifice her own career dreams (at least for a while) to care for her husband and raise their future children. She'd been playing surrogate mother to her brothers for the better part of a decade now, wasn't it time for a break? To focus on her own dreams, to discover who she was outside of an orphan with three brothers depending on her to give the parenting she herself had never gotten?

She pushed away that little voice, let him slip the ring onto her finger, and kissed him, chuckling at the small sigh of relief he let out.

He loved her. She loved him. What else could she possibly need?

The answer to that came two months later, when her acceptance to the police academy arrived. To this day, she's not sure which of them was the more surprised when she opened it. She'd never actually thought they would accept her application.

Greg didn't even know that she'd filed it.

She had filled it out one night about six months ago after one of their rare arguments. A quite civilised conversation about where they should take their next vacation had morphed into a heated discussion about perhaps relocating to another state once her brothers had finished school. He'd been less than enthusiastic about the idea. Their whole lives were in Chicago, he'd said, why would they want to uproot themselves from home? She accused him (rather unfairly, she'd admit) of having no guts, and no willingness to try something different. They'd gotten so angry with one another he'd taken off to spend the night at a friend's, and she'd filled in the application mostly out of spite, to show him there could plenty of incentive for them to move if he'd just be open to it.

He'd returned the next day, sheepish and apologetic, telling her he'd be happy to move anywhere if that was what she wanted and the fight and the application had been forgotten. Until it wasn't.

Stan had finished school. He could watch out for Tommy and Jimmy. Their parents' life insurance had taken care of the mortgage. Their family life was as stable as it was ever going to get. And she actually had a shot at making something of herself. Doing something to help people. She couldn't pass it up.

Greg had his own business in Chicago. He had parents, siblings, aunts, uncles, even nieces and nephews here. He had roots here.

They talked it over for the next few weeks. Tossed out suggestions and compromises and ideas, but never managed to get past the fundamental truth of it. She wanted to go. He wanted to stay.

The cutoff date arrived faster than either of them would have liked. If she were going to accept her place in the academy she had to do it today.

She accepted it. It hurt her to do it, but her wishes hadn't changed. She told him so that evening.

She broke his heart.

She left Chicago for good the next week, on the very day they were supposed to put down the deposit for the wedding venue.

She used her half to pay the deposit on a studio apartment instead.

The academy was her future. Unfortunately, Greg Tayback no longer was.

* * *

When Marcus asked her, she'd had to think it over for a few days.

Nothing about their relationship had been typical, right from the start. On their very first date, they'd had breakfast food for dinner. She'd enjoyed it, a refreshing change from her usual TV dinner and beer.

He was a refreshing change in lots of ways. Just what she needed, or so she'd thought.

For so long, the most significant man in her life had been Jane, a man of extremes. Extreme intellect, extremely good looks, and an extremely firm set of opinions about the world that he refused to change. Not to mention, he could be an A-class jerk.

Of course, none of that had stopped her from falling for him. Quite the opposite in fact. She adored him for the fact that he was so remarkable, even though she sometimes wondered how someone like her could ever be worthy of one that shone so brightly. Jane was the kind of person you couldn't help but notice when he walked into a room.

Free of the demons that had been haunting him so long, there was no limit to what he could do, what he could achieve. He could be, or do, anything that he chose; he had so much potential, and it confused her that he seemed unwilling to use it.

He was by no means perfect, however. She could attest to that. He could still be distant, cold, and even cruel on occasion. He still sometimes said and did things that made her ache inside, and treated her like an employee instead of a trusted friend and partner.

His methods had never failed; she'd give him that. But at what cost? His humanity? Her feelings? His life?

Marcus was different. Somehow softer. If they disagreed on something, he'd simply laugh and they'd move on, rather than grab onto the topic with both hands and attempt to browbeat her into changing her mind like Jane sometimes did. Marcus was a good man; being with him was easy, a relationship that naturally grew and flourished from both of them instead of her needing to force it every step of the way like she had with Jane.

She never outright told Marcus about her feelings for Jane, and he never directly asked her, but he was no fool. She was sure he'd worked out that there had been _something_ between them, at least on her end. She could never be quite sure what Jane was thinking, after all. She was used to that. But Marcus, he wasn't like that. He was honest, sincere. Everything was simple.

Until it wasn't.

He asked her to move to DC with him, and no sooner had she got her head around that, than he asked her to marry him too.

Perhaps she should have listened to that little niggling voice that popped up once again. If she agreed to marry Marcus, she was shutting the door on Jane, once and for all. All those years loving him, caring about him, the tears she cried for him, the lies she told for him; they would all go to waste. She'd have nothing to show for nearly ten years of her life except a service record littered with suspensions and arrests, one dead serial killer and his network, (OK, that one was a win,) and a lingering reminder of all the opportunities she'd missed to let him know how much she cared. Could she live with that?

After the 'case' in Miami, furious with Jane for deceiving her again, furious with herself for letting him, she made her decision, and she didn't push away that little niggling voice.

She exorcised it.

She accepted Marcus' proposal by cell phone on the way to the airport, her simmering anger at Jane overriding any joy she might have been feeling at the thought of being a bride again. Jane had hurt her, made a fool of her. Marcus would never do such a thing. She was glad to be going to be with him, relieved that she would finally be leaving this toxic, heartwrenching relationship with her consultant far behind her.

She truly did believe it too. Right up until the moment Jane appeared in the aisle of her airplane, and finally said the words she'd always wanted him to say. And meant them.

Sometimes, she's a little ashamed that was all it took to change her mind. Even as she told him he was too late, she knew deep down she couldn't leave him now.

To his credit, Jane did think to ask about Marcus while they were in the TSA room. She told him he'd understand. She'd honestly forgotten about her fiancé until that moment, what with the dramatic love confession from the man of her dreams, and then when he kissed her for the first time a few moments later, she forgot a whole lot of other things too. All the misery he put her through disappeared in that moment and there was nothing but bliss.

She jokes with him now that if he'd kissed her like that every time he screwed up in the past, they would never have had any problems.

To that, he always says sincerely that if he'd kissed her like that every time he screwed up, they would never have gotten any work done, because why the hell would he have wanted to let her go?

She excused herself from the TSA room when Abbot arrived, ready to wheel and deal with them so they'd let Jane go. She found a breakroom just off the corridor with nobody in it, shut the door behind her, and called Marcus.

He sounded surprised when he answered. After all, he'd expected her to still be in the air.

He sounded less surprised when she told him she wasn't coming. He didn't bother wasting time asking about whether the flight had been delayed or something; he knew her too well.

He sounded almost emotionless when she told him she was sorry, that she had never meant to hurt him. He said he was sorry too. He said he wished her the best.

He sounded heartbroken when he said goodbye.

It only occurred to her on the drive home later that he'd never even asked her why.

He didn't need to, she supposed. He already knew.

* * *

When Patrick asked her, she didn't need to think about it at all.

There they were, eating sandwiches near the house that in a few months would become a home. _Their_ home.

True, she'd never envisioned herself living quite so far off the beaten track, or at least without being in walking distance of a good coffee shop, but she had to admit the location had charm. It was quiet, and private. It was just what Jane needed, a place he could go where he could retreat from the world and simply _be_. He'd always been fond of nature. And it would be nice for her to be able to truly get away from it all after a hard day.

She'd asked him for a sign of his commitment and she'd got one. She was content.

But he wouldn't be the man she loved if he hadn't dropped another bomb on her.

"I want you to be my wife. Will you marry me?"

They'd been dating less than a year but in truth, she'd been his almost from the moment she laid eyes on him. Because of him, she was the happiest she'd ever been. Nobody else had challenged her so much, or made her smile so often. And now he was offering her the one thing she wanted more than anything; a guarantee that he was in it for the long haul. If there was one title Patrick Jane took seriously, it was that of 'husband.'

'Father' too, but they'd get to that later.

The chance to be by his side always, to hold him when he was sad and laugh with him when he was happy. To make up for all that time they'd lost to Red John, and protocol, and the ghosts of the past.

This question was kind of a no-brainer.

There was were no doubts this time, no niggling little voices pointing out all the bad points. This time, only her heart was doing the talking.

This was good. This was _right._ This one was _forever_.

And it was.


End file.
